


Bite Me

by Scrunchles



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Biting, Bruises, Consensual Violence, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Grinding, Kissing, M/M, Morning After, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Softened Roadhog, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 20:51:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7069555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrunchles/pseuds/Scrunchles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after Junkrat and Roadhog's first intimate night together leaves Junkrat a few trophies and thrilled enough to take Roadhog for another, less frenzied run.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bite Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lightspeed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightspeed/gifts).



> Friend got excited for smut so I wrote some.

Junkrat’s first time with Roadhog was bruisingly rough, disappointingly quick and painfully _good_.  

Well, mostly painful, but Junkrat’s convinced that that’s what made it _good_.  It wasn’t regular good, like sex with just any tart or tom.  It was the kind of good that came with discovery.  

In particular, the discovery that Roadhog had blunt, straight teeth that liked to scrape against Junkrat’s neck and shoulders, latching on until Junkrat whined and then slipping away with a sharp pinch to find a new place to worry at while he held the smaller man down with one hand.  

Discovering that Roadhog could pick him up and slam him down with a single palm.   _That_ had been a winning surprise.

Junkrat stretched his arms back and rolled his shoulders.  Piece of piss, his whole torso felt sorer than his ass.

He had bruises from teeth on his chest, shoulders, neck and then his _back_.  

Good greaves, his back.

Roadhog had put him on his stomach once Junkrat had come.  He’d chuckled at Junkrat’s flushed grin and wiggling eyebrows, then put both hands on Junkrat’s hips and flipped him over like it’s what he was made for.

Junkrat had stretched out beneath Roadhog as massive fingers gripped his middle until they left bruises and then massaged their way down between his cheeks.

Junkrat could see Roadhog’s fingerprints between his hipbones if he looked down.  Hog’s index and middle finger prints cleared Junkrat’s pants line, and there was a very distinctly human-shaped bite mark just to the left of his navel.  

Roadhog had absolutely bailed him into the mattress once he’d gotten him turned over.  It was a creaky old thing, but well worth the motel fee. Junkrat didn’t think he would have survived a dusty wall or floor session.  Not when Roadhog was so pent up that he’d slammed Junkrat onto the small wooden table as soon as the door had closed behind them.  

The table was cracked now. Junkrat was disappointed that they hadn’t broken it, but he supposed it would be easier for the next couple of misfit freaks who happened to be too eager to wait for the bed.

If he turned around and twisted around to look, he could see the dark line where the table’s edge had dug into his lower back.  He could also feel the pull of over-worked muscles and it made him stretch lazily.  He should probably do so in front of Hog sometime.

Junkrat grinned at the thought and turned around in the bathroom mirror one last time before strutting out through the cock-eyed door.  It swung creakily on a single twisted hinge, and he had to force it back up to get it to close properly.

“Done admiring your damage?” Roadhog asked from where he still lay on the bed.

Junkrat bit back a cackle, but a little snicker still slipped out.  “You mean _your_ damage.”

Roadhog huffed and leaned up on his elbows.  “You want some more, punk?”  If he’d meant to sound menacing, all Junkrat heard was fondness.

“Can I?”  He asked wistfully.

A chuckle rattled from behind Roadhog’s mask, and Junkrat grinned.  He hobbled two steps forward before springing into the bed and wrapping his arms around Roadhog to grope the little bit of top-ass that his belted overalls didn’t quite cover.

Roadhog shoved him away, but not before Junkrat hooked his prosthetic around Hog’s leg.  He used the force of Roadhog’s shove and pushed off with his left leg to get up on top of Roadhog, sitting pretty for all of a second before Roadhog simply rolled them over and attempted to dump Junkrat off the edge of the bed.

Junkrat clung to Roadhog’s shoulders to prevent himself from dropping and swore he could see affection in the eyes barely visible through foggy dark lenses.  “Take your mask off, eh?” he begged, bringing his prosthetic hand up to touch the clasp.  “Didn’t get a whole lot of kisses last night, was mostly…” he made a gnashing sound and followed it up with a self-appreciating giggle.

Roadhog hummed before his hands grabbed Junkrat by the hips and he rolled them back to the middle of the little full size bed, Junkrat on top.

“You’ve got ten minutes,” he told Junkrat.

“To get the mask off?” he asked, beginning to busily work the straps out of their fittings.  “Or to make out with you once it’s gone?”

His massive companion waited until Junkrat had struggled the straps loose and held the mask up in a showy victory before replying, “both.”  Roadhog’s voice was much less menacing without the mask, not as resonant and more mellow.  

Roadhog’s full-bodied laugh rattled through Junkrat to his core as he scrambled up over Roadhog’s belly and hurriedly pressed his lips to Roadhog’s in several open-mouthed kisses.

Roadhog’s hands came up to support Junkrat at the apex of his gut, and his fingers pressed perfectly into several of the bruises Junkrat’s pants covered.

Junkrat let out a soft groan and wiggled up more, unable to help but to begin grinding slowly against Roadhog’s belly.

“Seven minutes,” Roadhog mumbled between kisses.  His hands massaged Junkrat’s ass and thighs as encouragement, despite his words and the creeping worry that they inspired.

Junkrat began to cling again as the time ticked by, his grinding increasing until he undid his own pants and let his erection slide up and down Roadhog’s tattooed belly.  

“One minute,” Roadhog taunted him, his voice was crackling and he sounded a little breathless, as if he had a tickle in the back of his throat, or he was holding back a cough.

“All I need…” Junkrat muttered, precome slickening his bucks against Roadhog.  He groaned and let his lips fall away from Roadhog’s, panting against his throat and nuzzling against the rough grit of his silver stubble.

Roadhog coughed once Junkrat wasn’t kissing him, and his hands on Junrat’s hips helped him along, giving him a deeper grind while Junkrat focused on moving his hips as quickly as possible.

“Do I need to do a countdown?”  Roadhog rasped, nibbling Junkrat’s earlobe.

Junkrat was about to give him a negative answer when all he could suddenly get out was a long, drawn out, “nnnnnuuuuhhhhhhh!” as he came.

Roadhog laughed and licked at the bend of Junkrat’s neck before taking his mask back from Junkrat’s limp prosthetic and pressing the filter to his mouth to breathe in deeply.

“So much for making out,” Roadhog huffed, once he’d resecured his mask and cleared his throat.

“Aw, c’mon, you enjoyed it!” Junkrat laughed and slipped down to straddle Hog’s legs while he tucked himself back in and wiped at the spunk stains on his shorts until they blended in with the rest of the dirt and grime.

“Yeah, all five minutes of it.”  Roadhog chuckled.

“Five–?”  He felt heat rise in his cheeks and at the back of his neck.  At a loss, he punched Roadhog’s gut.  It didn’t affect him at all.  “You big bastard!”

Roadhog continued laughing as Junkrat scrabbled for his mask, trying to get it back off and maybe blow it up or hide it somewhere up high and rickety so that Roadhog couldn’t get to it.


End file.
